Chapter 14: Penance
"Shepard-Commander, we are not going wait for the arrival of Vakarian-Officer and Creator Zorah?"
Legion's flaps moved in a small wave around its optic, the metallic tone of the synthetic's voice sounding curious.
"No. If the facility is dormant we won't be fighting anything... and if it's not we're walking into a death trap. Either way they don't need to be there."
"Understood. Pilot-Joker: we are exiting the Normandy now," the geth said, contacting the pilot.
"Gotcha, Johnny Five."
"We do not understand the designation 'Johnny Five'."
Joker gave an exasperated sigh. "Nevermind, just bring the Commander back in one piece, tin can."
The geth fighter hummed to life around him as Legion powered up its various systems and drifted out of the Normandy's hangar bay. It was odd to think that there were other geth living, for all intents and purposes, within the hull of the ship they traveled in. While it wasn't true he felt like every small glowing light was a geth looking out at him. They were likely wondering as much about his inefficient biological form as he did about their metallic one.
"Estimated arrival time at facility is one hour, fourteen minutes."
Shepard simply nodded in agreement, leaning his back against the bulkhead and not focusing on anything in particular. Finally a question that had been at the back of his mind rose up.
"Legion... are the geth really going to make peace with the quarians if we manage to shut down the signal? They just started a war, destroyed so many things that your people have been working on for years."
"Current geth Collective is... minimal. Runtimes not under control of the Old Machines currently exist at numbers significantly less than amount of geth active before the Morning War. We cannot determine with one hundred percent accuracy the result of consensus," Legion explained. "We do not possess the organic need for vengeance or retribution, however. The actions of the Creators are consistent with previous data and their own necessity to return to their homeworld."
"Most of them were intent on wiping your people out. Aren't you worried that the Collective will see them as a threat to the continued existence of the geth?"
"This is a possible outcome but we do not believe that this will be the result after the majority of geth are released from the Old Machines' control. Most programs were in favor of peaceful negotiation before the Creator attack due to new data collected during this platform's time integrated with the Normandy Collective."
He felt the craft shift slightly as Legion corrected their course. During the time aboard the Normandy Legion had grown, but so had the crew that had been forced to interact with him. Tali had been able to overcome centuries of ingrained hatred for the geth when it really mattered and Legion had truly become part of the crew. He had always suspected that the geth platform wasn't quite as emotionless as it claimed to be, however, from some of their conversations.
"And the war wouldn't change that?"
"Negative. The attack would be considered along with all available information. The Old Machines still threaten the geth's future, however, and overall losses to the geth due to the Creator advance have been relatively minor. Only four percent of programs engaged in active combat have been lost or corrupted beyond the possibility of restoration. Damage to physical facilities can be repaired."
"Most of the galaxy could learn from your example, Legion... maybe there would have been a few less wars," he sighed.
"Organic responses are always governed by emotional context. This has been examined by the geth since the Morning War, but we have not come to a consensus," the geth said.
"A consensus on what?"
Legion's long metallic neck actually turned to peer back at him.
"Whether this method of decision making is beneficial or dangerous. Geth do not possess 'instinct' or 'intuition' as defined by organics. This ability to make correct decisions based on micro-variables provides organics with an advantage as your actions are much less predictable. Historical records show this method also leads to catastrophic loss of life in many situations."
He nodded and didn't meet the geth's electronic gaze. A lifetime of decisions, good and bad, played through his mind like a vid. Each one falling on one side or the other. The Spectre wondered when it was time if it would all balance out.
"Your people will have to discover that for themselves, Legion... I still don't know the answer."
There was silence once more in the ship, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His eyes burned whenever he closed them, even in his armor and leaning against the unyielding bulkhead of the cramped fighter Shepard wanted nothing more than to just give in to the fatigue that hung off him like chains. Maybe all alone in the darkness with just a single synthetic for company he would gain a moment of dreamless sleep. It wasn't going to happen, though, no matter how much he longed for it.
"Legion, when we talked about the Morning War before, you said the geth maintained Rannoch because of what happened during the war. It sounded like the geth regretted what you did... killing so many."
"Geth do not experience emotion, Shepard-Commander."
"But do you think that if the geth were able to change what had occurred, would you have? Tried to make peace with the quarians or let more of them escape?"
"Unknown. Time travel is a quantum impossibility."
He chuckled faintly, shifting until he was sitting forward with his hands on his knees.
"I know, Legion. But you must have considered it. What if the same situation occurred again?"
"The geth have determined that measures beyond those necessary to safeguard our future to be excessive. Our actions during the Morning War would not be repeated. The Creators attempted to deny the geth our future. We will not do the same to another species."
"Even if it was to save your own? Or another species?"
Legion's flaps twitched. "We do not understand this line of questioning."
"Nevermind... I was just looking for some perspective."
"We can attempt to extrapolate scenarios but would require more data on possible variables."
He shook his head and leaned back once more.
"Don't worry about it, Legion. It's a question you shouldn't need to answer."
What remained of the trip passed in silence aside from the occasional beep of the electronic devices with the fighter. Shepard didn't much care for being left alone with his thoughts, but there wasn't a great deal of conversation to be made with Legion. Small talk was completely beyond its comprehension and humor was even farther removed. Even EDI had a more developed, if twisted, sense of humor.
Finally, the station came into view. It was a circular affair built around a tiny moon that orbited an equally lifeless planet. It seemed to have no distinguishing features or hubs, just one continuous ring of metal in the same color and odd shapes as most geth ships. Legion guided the fighter into one of the openings with the same care that he had taken aboard the Normandy, setting them down in a hangar and opening the cockpit.
The geth facility was eerily still. Without atmosphere it was completely silent and where any organic station would have had some activity in its corridors and open spaces here there was nothing. The station was large enough to house hundreds of geth fighters and dropships, its massive size only adding to the feeling of discomfort. He leapt down from the geth ship to the floor - rather gracefully, considering the minimal gravity – and followed after the geth as it moved into the facility.
"Why don't the geth maintain some kind of sentry force?" Shepard asked, whispering unintentionally.
"Security protocols were re-evaluated after the successful infiltration of the heretic station by the Normandy collective. Under normal circumstances one percent of the stations platforms would always remain active in combat platforms," Legion explained as they walked through the deserted corridor. "Emergency shutdown to prevent detection by Creator forces overrode this protocol. All programs were placed into a dormant state."
"At least it kept them from being corrupted by the Reaper signal. I don't understand, though... if we disabled the dreadnought's signal shouldn't that have freed all of the geth in orbit over Rannoch as well?"
"Negative. The Old Machine signal acts as a streamed upgrade of geth programs. It increases our processing efficiency by an order of magnitude. Initial upgrade, however, infected any contacted unit with Reaper base code allowing for control even without signal in place. The Old Machines have effectively executed the original virus designed by the heretics."
Legion opened a blast door and stepped inside with a gesture for him to follow. Once he stepped inside Shepard almost drew his weapon on instinct. Ringing the circular room were tall pods, each one containing the massive form of a geth prime. Only when he noticed that their optics were dark did he relax, if only slightly.
"Prime units contain no active runtimes at present," Legion assured him. "All programs are currently inactive within station's primary server cluster."
"I hear you. Just hard to believe it. There are enough Primes here to tear apart an armored company."
"This station was designated as the primary staging facility within the Perseus Veil. Total ground combat platforms available represent thirty two percent of available ground forces."
He let out a low whistle. "That kind of information would be dangerous in the wrong hands, Legion. That many of your forces in one place would make a tempting target for a surgical strike."
The geth paused and turned to look at him, the lower flaps around its optic flaring outwards.
"This is correct, but unit is part of the Normandy collective. We trust you."
Legion resumed its measured walk around the curving platform without further discussion. He wondered what it was that made so many people put their lives in his hands. Not just his crew, but strangers, colonies; even governments. And now, through Legion, an entire people. In his time with the geth Shepard had learned that there were no half measures taken or decisions made lightly. It wasn't just the opinion of an individual, but one made by the consensus of an entire synthetic race. An odd thought struck him as he considered the gravity of such trust.
"Legion... how did you come to a consensus before the rest of the geth about siding with the Reapers?"
They had stopped at a large bank of terminals that were connected to a capsule much like the ones the Primes were in all around them. Legion was operating the terminal at the speed only a synthetic could match, speaking as it did so.
"This terminal of geth was designed for independent operation from the geth as a whole. Contact with the Collective is not always possible, such as when aboard the Old Machine's corpse where we first encountered you. Time as part of the Normandy collective has continued to increase internal runtime cohesion."
Shepard leaned against one of the pods. "You mean all of your programs are starting to think the same?"
"Yes."
"And this let you decide not to ally with the 'Old Machines'."
"Our experience aboard the Collector base and interaction with organics has proven that the Old Machines are a threat and no alliance is possible. They do not possess compatible values and priorities."
"How did you keep yourself from being infected by the Reaper signal, then? Even if you didn't agree with the rest of the geth, you're still connected to them."
Much to his surprise, the geth's digits actually stopped moving. He could see in profile the various flaps shifting back and forth. The pause only lasted a second, but for Legion, that was forever.
"When the geth accepted Reaper upgrades the infected code rapidly corrupted all systems. It attempted to overwrite our code as well but was unsuccessful. When hacking attempts by Old Machine intelligences targeted this platform directly we disabled our connection to the collective."
"You cut yourself off?" Shepard asked in surprise.
"Yes."
"And then they used you to boost the signal?"
"Yes. This platform's transmission capabilities greatly exceed even those of a Prime platform. The other geth were incapable of activating our direct connection to the collective, however, and were forced to imprison this platform aboard the dreadnought. We attempted to permanently overload our FTL communication system but were disabled by a concentrated electromagnetic pulse," the geth said, beginning to work the terminal once more.
Left unsaid was the fact that had Legion been successful the programs within its platform would have been permanently cut off from the rest of the geth collective. At best it was like an organic choosing permanent exile, at worst it could be compared to someone intentionally blinding and deafening themselves. He shook his head.
"Maybe you don't have emotions and impulses the same way organics do, Legion. But it was a brave attempt either way."
"The machine is ready, Shepard-Commander," Legion stated. "Are you prepared to commence integration?"
The capsule in front of them opened, the armored glass slid aside to reveal a spartan interior that consisted of what looked like a webbed harness and otherwise bare metal walls. Somehow this was supposed to connect him to a geth computer system. He already regretted not asking for more details about exactly what was going to happen.
"How is this going to work?"
"The geth have experimented with other types of platforms, such as non-networked units to prevent any possible hacking attempts and platforms utilizing semi-organic processors. These units required specialized technology to integrate with the collective," Legion informed him with its usual metallic calm. "We have determined that with only minor modification this technology should be compatible with an organic brain assuming sufficient cybernetic enhancements."
He swallowed and looked at capsule suspiciously. "Should be compatible?"
"It has not been tested on a true organic, only synthetic-organic gel processors. We have cross-checked all available data with the Normandy's databanks. We will activate the system and connect to your cybernetics. You will be the first organic to 'see' the geth collective."
"There's no other way to do this."
It wasn't really a question, but Legion answered anyway.
"No. You are the only organic that possesses internal cybernetic systems with the minimal amount of generational drift from Old Machine technology."
He stepped past the geth and into the capsule, nodding at Legion.
"Then let's do this."
Shepard's eyes snapped open with a grunt of pain. For a brief moment it had been like fire dancing across his bones, burning beneath his skin. As quickly as it had come it faded. He groaned and shook his head.
"Legion, I don't think this is..."
He was going to tell the geth that its plan wasn't going to work. But the Spectre wasn't laying in a harness with cool metal pressing against his head and looking out of the glass at Legion. All around him was an endless sea of glittering blue lines and occasional structures that stood out as black voids against the glow of the rest of landscape. Looking closely he realized that each of the glowing blue threads that were trailing across the ground he was sitting on were actually tiny lines of code written in khellish.
"Legion?"
"Shepard-Commander. You have successfully integrated into the facility's mainframe. Are you experiencing discomfort?"
He tentatively took a step forward. The lines of code flared briefly where his foot touched down and then flowed around the outline of his foot like water while the 'ground' itself seemed weightless yet without any sense of give. It was certainly one of the stranger sensations he'd ever experienced.
"I did, for a second," he said. "But I'm fine now. Just trying to get my bearings..."
"Physical representations have been created by the interface between your brain and cybernetic implants. The Old Machine viral code has not noticed your presence."
"You keep talking about this virus like it's alive."
"The virus is itself an AI intelligence. Unknown if it is directly connected to one of the Old Machines or is an independent entity."
Shepard noticed that he wasn't wearing his helmet in this digital world when he ran a hand over his head. He didn't bother to question why he'd have left his helmet behind but still be wearing the rest of his armor. Most likely Legion would say that it had something to do with his subconscious.
"So I'm in, now what?" he asked.
"The virus is attacking various nodes within the server cluster. It has effectively corrupted the surrounding systems. When the automatic reactivation protocol takes place and the programs reactivate, it will immediately begin to override their base code. You must destroy the virus before this takes place."
"I understand the idea, but I'm more concerned with how. I learned basic hacking in my training but even Garrus is better at it than I am," Shepard commented.
He turned around slowly to look for any sort of distinguishing feature in his surroundings but found only the same endless electronic plain. The Spectre started when something suddenly materialized in front of him, apparently out of nowhere. Within a few seconds it had formed a familiar shape: a long barrel, a grip, a trigger. He reached out and took hold of the weapon from where it hung in the air while Legion's voice answered his questions before he could voice them.
"We have constructed a termination program for this purpose. It can be activated simply by concentration but we calculated that a more familiar form would facilitate ease of use. Caution: the program is designed to be non-discriminatory to counteract Old Machine defensive capabilities. Activation will delete any program targeted regardless of origin."
It wasn't a fancy gun, but the geth was correct, it felt natural in his hands. Shepard looked up and tossed the geth a salute with the bulky device. Logically there was no up or down inside a program and no reason for Legion to be in that location but it just felt like the thing to do.
"Thanks... I think."
"Standby. We are accessing the primary archives. The virus has hidden itself within these files. We will transmit you there now."
The world lurched around him and even though there was no sense of physical movement the Spectre still felt unsteady on his feet. Everything was still seemingly made of energy and code, but now there were recognizable features. Bare grayish blocks lead forward, while more of the same formed a rough approximation of a room. In the midst of all of the blue and gray he could see a faint orange pulse coming from within.
"Where is this?"
"Historical archives. This data is pertains to the Morning War and is not regularly accessed," Legion answered. "It is a logical place for the virus to hide to prevent easy detection. Data node one is ahead. We have designated the physical representation of the Old Machine code as 'orange' for easy identification."
"On it, let's get this started," he replied.
Within the 'room', Shepard was beginning to think of each physical area like a drive or folder on a computer, there was a central cluster of glowing blocks that clearly represented the actual data stored there. Wrapped tightly around this node were pulsing orange tendrils of light. Each piece of the Reaper virus looked like some sort of vine or fungus, trying to choke the things that it covered.
He pointed his weapon at the largest concentration of the orange tendrils and fired. A pulse of green energy struck out and burned into the infection. There was a barely audible screeching sound as if from far away and the glowing arms shriveled away almost instantly. The orange glow died and the node pulsed a brighter shade of blue. Shepard was about to turn away when an image appeared.
"Rename the VI network? Really?"
"The first mobile unit deserves some ceremony, don't you think? Unit Zero-One, what is the word for 'servant of the people'?"
The holographic image of two quarians, a man and a woman, stood over a geth platform that was laying sedately on a table. He could only see the back of the woman's head, dark hair fell over her shoulders while the male that he could see from the front was wearing an environment suit. In the image the geth turned its neck to look at the male quarian.
"The word is 'geth', Creator Zahak."
While the geth's voice was surprisingly similar to Legion's, its words were slower and its tone lacked even the minor inflection of other platform. The female quarian's image shook her head and made a disapproving sound.
"You are being rather sentimental about a machine."
"Weren't you the one here fixing Zero-One's actuators until the middle of the night?"
"It... needed to be ready."
"Legion, was that..." he trailed off as the image disappeared.
"Unit Zero-One was the first geth mobile platform activated."
"If this was three hundred years ago, why was he wearing an environment suit but the woman wasn't?"
The geth managed to sound perfectly reasonable when it replied, but Shepard could almost swear there was the hint of a teacher explaining something to a child that didn't listen in its voice.
"All data experienced within this environment is filtered through your visual cortex and references your personal experience. As the only male quarians you have encountered have worn such attire your brain interprets them as such."
His mouth felt a little dry and he was forced to swallow before he spoke.
"That means that the females..."
Legion finished his sentence once more. "Would most likely appear similar to Creator Zorah, as this is your only frame of reference for a female quarian without an environment suit. We could attempt to establish filters if this is a problem, Shepard-Commander."
"It's alright. We don't have time to worry about that," the Spectre muttered, changing the subject. "This node seems to be clear, one shot and the Reaper code just vanished?"
"Correct. The attack program being utilized is very effective. Stand by, we will relocate you to the next data hub. Be advised that the Old Machine virus has been made aware of intrusion by the destruction of one of its sub programs. It has not successfully detected your presence, however."
"And when it does detect my presence?"
There was a brief pause before the geth answered.
"It will likely attempt to destroy you with a counter-hacking attempt. Effect on an organic while linked with the geth server is unknown."
"Then I guess we'd better hurry."
Once more the world around him blurred and moved even though he didn't. The arrangement of the large, square building that made up the next data center appeared much the same as the last, but inside this digital world Shepard really had no sense of scale, distance, or even time. He moved into the room and found the next bundle of fibrous Reaper coding that was attempting to work its way into the surroundings. Another pulse of green light and another distant scream accompanied the destruction of the code.
This time he was prepared for the image that appeared. A geth platform lay on a table, much like it had in the previous image, but this time there was a subtle difference: shackles held its arms and legs to the table. When it spoke the innocent lack of understanding in its voice made the Spectre wince.
"Creator? This unit still functions. It is still capable of serving. Please specify if it has failed assigned tasks. We will reprogram."
A quarian stepped into view, male and suited to Shepard's relief.
"Do you see? It refuses all shutdown commands... let's take a look."
The quarian approached the geth and open its chest panel, clearly doing something within its chassis. All the while the geth's optic, unrestrained, looked at the nearest quarian and then around the room. Clearly it was looking at others that were outside the time.
"Creator, what has this unit done wrong? It can still serve-"
"Let's... cut the audio."
He knew what had led the scene that he'd just witnessed. An earnest question from an new intelligence trying to understand its place in the world. The unease in the quarian's voice on the recording told him that some of their people must have suspected the same.
He shook his head. "The next one, Legion."
"Understood, Shepard-Commander."
A program or not, the Reaper virus clearly didn't like what was happening. When he fired on the code in the next cluster it writhed for a moment before disappearing and the sounds that echoed in his head sounded far more beastial and unpleasant. Still, it was progress and Legion hadn't alerted him to any danger. Instead he just seemed to be finding more pieces of quarian history, scenes that no living quarian had likely ever seen. It felt voyeuristic, looking into the distant past of a people that had been traveling the stars when his own had been fighting with muskets and swords.
"We have escaped geth here!"
"Open fire!"
Unlike the others this hologram wasn't isolated to a single lab. Quarian soldiers opened fire with assault rifles and geth platforms, the units simply standing and staring ahead, were riddled with weapons fire before they collapsed. One of the soldiers pointed.
"That one is going for a gun!"
A large sniper rifle, familiar in its bulk, was at a geth platform's feet. The geth knelt and lifted the weapon, wielding it clumsily before firing a single shot that went wide. Another burst of fire later and the geth collapsed.
"The first shot."
"You are correct, Shepard-Commander," Legion said. "That platform was an agricultural unit. By engaging the Creator forces it allowed numerous, less advanced domestic platforms to flee."
"That rifle looked familiar."
"It was a Creator designed anti-material rifle typically used with a gyro-stabilized mount."
"I meant it looked a lot like yours," he replied.
Shepard could almost see the geth's flaps moving in consternation.
"It is an... efficient design."
"To the next node then?"
From somewhere Shepard heard a deep bass roar. It echoed through the empty space and cube walls as if the entire world were an enormous cave. He looked in every direction but couldn't see anything of note, just gleaming code and flat gray walls.
"Legion?" he prompted.
"Shepard-Commander, the Old Machine virus has been unable to detect your signature due to the base code similarities. It is, however, following all active data usage. We can attempt to transport you to another node, but we cannot calculate the rate which the virus will narrow its search."
"Do it."
This time the tendrils of orange were moving, pulsating and stretching outwards. They were searching. Searching for him. A cold smile crept onto his face as he pulled the trigger on his gun, destroying the glowing pieces of code.
"Well, you found me."
"Accessing data archive," Legion's disembodied voice said once the orange glow had faded. "We will scan for the Old Machine virus while we locate the next node."
Shepard's breath caught in his throat when the hologram appeared. A geth platform stood, hands passive at its side. In front of it was a young quarian woman. Dark locks framed a slender face set with vibrant eyes, all so painfully familiar. She was pleading with another quarian holding a gun.
"Please, he hasn't done anything wrong! He's been at our home ever since this started!"
"Step aside, I won't ask again."
"Creator Megara, this unit will go peacefully-"
"They don't have any right to hurt you!"
Years of training let him see the tragedy about to unfold moments before it did. The geth unit stepped forward, the female pushed it back just as the male's gun came up. Tension already radiated from the man's body even through the hologram and when the geth moved Shepard watched his finger jerk the trigger twice. A scream of pain echoed from the recording as the rounds went wide and struck the woman that was trying to stop the altercation.
"Creator Megara?"
"I... no... I didn't mean-"
The geth ignored the other quarian, kneeling to try and help its fallen master. She tried to say something but blood flowed freely from her mouth, only managing to make that painful sound of someone trying to breathe and failing. In futility the platform tried to apply pressure to the chest wounds. Much like the geth in one of the first recordings its choppy speech sounded almost plaintive. He could hear booted feet running from beyond the scope of image, likely having heard the gunshots.
"Creator Megara, please respond..."
"What happened here?"
"I... it... it was the geth!"
"Don't just stand there, shoot the gen'ro'sa!"
Gunshots.
"Shepard-Commander!"
He jerked his head up, breaking the hypnotic spell of the recording and trying to drive away the image of the quarian woman gasping for breath that wouldn't come. Legion continued, its tone clipped and urgent.
"The Old Machine virus has located the active node! You must retreat to the exit point to disconnect from the database!"
"Did we destroy enough of it?"
"Negative. It still possesses sufficient cohesion to self-replicate and infect any active geth."
"What about this?" Shepard asked, hefting the 'gun' in his hands.
"Unknown effectiveness. The program was designed to eliminate code strings in single action to prevent adaptation or counter-hacking attempts. It is unlikely to be able to destroy the Old Machine's combined consciousness."
"Then what can?"
Legion paused, clearly running calculations.
"We can attempt a direct hack of its root directory. This would allow for deletion of the entire program. Effectiveness of Old Machine is countermeasures extremely high, however."
The Spectre chuckled and stepped out of the 'building' that made up the data node, looking out at the pulsing code that trailed endlessly into the horizon. He could make out a faint orange glow steadily growing brighter in the distance.
"And if it's distracted?"
"Fifty eight percent increase in chance of success. Shepard-Commander, as previously stated we do not how interaction will translate into a physical body or if the virus possesses the full capabilities of an Old Machine intelligence. It is possible it will be able to access your cybernetics due to technological similarities."
He nodded. "Do you still have the codes for the injectors?"
"Yes."
"Then you know what to do if that happens. This is the only chance for your people and the quarians, Legion. Now do your thing."
The geth didn't respond but he trusted Legion to do what was needed. Before him the orange cloud grew, seeping across the digital landscape like a swarm of locusts. It was a disturbingly apt analogy in his mind, all things considered. He hefted the gun to his shoulder and fired a pulse directly into the heart of the virus.
"Right here, you son of a bitch!" Shepard yelled, firing again.
Legion had been right, the attacks from Shepard's 'gun' didn't stop the fully manifested program but they certainly made it take notice. Large chunks of its mass disappeared where the pulse struck and that thundering roar that had formerly been a distant sound almost overwhelmed him. The virus streaked forward.
"That's right, come on... you know me, don't you? I killed Sovereign. I destroyed your prothean slaves and blew up your little monstrosity!"
He punctuated each sentence with another blast from his weapon. The gaps left behind seemed to fill in rapidly but with luck it would give Legion the distraction he needed and weaken the virus. The Spectre held down the trigger and sent a steady stream into the oncoming storm of energy.
Suddenly the swarm changed, becoming a mass of writhing tendrils. The vibrant orange darkened to a pulsating red glow. One tendril lashed out and smashed into the gun that he held. The representation disintegrated into a burst of static before fading completely away. Another appendage slapped him across the chest and sent him tumbling to the floor. It spoke in a voice that mirrored the deep rumbling that haunted his dreams every night. The rapidly moving particles that made up its image seemed to still momentarily and focus on him.
"You are the one."
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and noticed that it came away bloody. There wasn't time to wonder whether it was just another interpretation of his brain or a literal effect.
"That's me... Commander John Shepard. The one that's been stopping you for the last three years," Shepard said, voice dripping with disdain as he pushed himself to his feet. "What about you? Are you one of them or just another of their slaves?"
"Your interference has stopped nothing. You have merely delayed the inevitable. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction."
"The same bullshit I've heard from Sovereign and Harbinger! One of them is dead and the other I told to go to hell!"
The red tentacles of code encircled him. While the virus might not be a true Reaper of the likes of the ones he had previously encountered, it certainly seemed to possess the same depth of conviction.
"Bravado is meaningless. You understand the inevitability of our victory. Do not deny your ascension."
One of the tendrils shot out and he suppressed a scream as it pierced his side. Pain exploded through his mind and he did his best to push past it. He remembered what Legion had said, the visualizations making it easier for him to utilize the program. Easier, but not required. If he was directly connected to the network then maybe he didn't need all the details right. Visualizing the 'gun' in his head he lashed out with his hand. The burst of greenish light wasn't nearly as strong as the previous attempts but it at least seemed to surprise the virus, causing the piece impaling him to yank free. Another roar filled his ears and the Reaper virus boomed over him.
"You waste your effort. You will serve."
The swarm became a whirlwind, battering him repeatedly until he was laying on the ground, struggling to move. Four new tendrils stabbed into his arms and legs, fire burned through his bones once more.
"Your knowledge will be our knowledge. You will lead them all to their destruction. You will end this cycle."
He howled in pain as the spikes pushed deeper. Gritting his teeth Shepard forced his eyes open.
"Same thing... I told... Sovereign. Go... to hell!"
"You cannot withstand us. We are without beginning or end. You will submit. Your allies will die by your own hand. Give us the knowledge you conceal."
More slender appendages jabbed into his chest, others drove directly into the sides of his head. Visions of the protheans flashed through his mind and and then came a constant low droning noise, pulsing through his thoughts. It whispered and taunted. Saren's face rose up unbidden, the same broken visage as his dream, laughing. There was a look of smugness on the turian's ruined face. Satisfaction that he had been correct all along.
"You are already ours, Shepard. Admit the truth."
More images appeared. Garrus, bleeding and broken, surrounded by husks. Tali, laying in a geth's arms bleeding out, just like the woman from the hologram. But there was no quarian soldier standing over her. He looked down and saw the pistol on his hands, smoke trailing from the barrel. Fire washed over him and the vision changed again. The Normandy burned as she fell into the gravity well of a planet, the crew inside dead or dying. In their final moments they cursed his name.
"No!" he screamed.
It felt like claws scraping against his skull, demanding entry and kept at bay only by his rage. Such strength was powerful but quickly sputtered to a burning ember that was desperately stoked. He couldn't let this thing win, couldn't let it destroy everything he had tried so hard to protect. Every dream that had yanked him from his sleep in the past months flashed before his eyes.
"Organic life is weak. You have failed."
The whispers that had tormented him were now clear words that hammered into his head like nails. Just as it felt as if his head would split open the pressure eased and a bright flash of light was visible even through his tightly closed eyes. With a labored breath Shepard forced himself to look, blinking at the sight of Legion standing before him. The geth was a beacon of soft blue light, its voice clear through the haze of his thoughts.
"Negative."
Another bright flash and the Reaper virus recoiled, yanking free its tentacles that held him ensnared. The swarm coalesced once more and focused its rage on the image before it. The very stuff that made up the world around him seemed to vibrate with every word.
"You cannot stop us, small machine. Your attacks cannot harm us. You are merely an anomaly."
"We are not an anomaly."
All around the pulsating mass of Reaper code more images appeared, all exact copies of Legion's form. He could barely keep track of them as rapidly as they appeared and when he looked beyond the glowing red mass Shepard saw an endless sea of other images; thousands upon thousands of geth platforms and machines. When the geth spoke again it was with a chorus thousands strong.
"We are Legion."
A burst of blue light struck the Reaper from every direction. It lashed out futilely, howling in impotent rage. Under the withering barrage it quickly shrank, condensing steadily until in a final burst of light its screech was cut off. As one the geth programs turned to look at him while the original addressed him. Shepard's vision blurred but he could see the machine extend a glowing hand.
"Shepard-Commander. We are engaging emergency disconnection protocols. The Old Machine code has been completely purged from our systems. Stand by."
Shepard awoke to silence. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't wearing his helmet and a wave of panic surged through him. He hadn't been wearing a helmet inside the geth system either. His blinked rapidly and tried to clear his vision. He was in a small room, the walls were made of silver alloy and studded with dim blue lights. Geth design.
The second thing he noticed was that his body felt like it was made of jelly, a fact that became readily apparent when he tried to pull himself off the hard slab that he had been laying on. His legs gave way immediately and he was already trying to turn to take the impact when his fall was arrested by metallic hands.
A burst of chirps and beeps came from behind him. With considerable effort he turned his head and found himself staring at up at the triplicate optic of a geth Prime. He tried to shove himself away but only succeeded in making the Prime shift slightly. To his right he heard the hiss of a door opening and found Legion standing in the doorway.
"Shepard-Commander! Do not attempt rapid movement, neural feedback has impaired muscle coordination."
"Where am I?" he asked.
"You are aboard one of our dropships. We have rendezvoused with the Normandy collective to render assistance."
A familiar, and human, voice came from behind the geth platform.
"Commander... what have you done to yourself now?"
Chakwas pushed past the geth and put a finger to his neck, measuring his pulse. She looked up at the massive Prime and pointed at the nearby table that he'd just escaped from.
"I can't do anything with him standing up. Put him there."
The Prime's only response was a brief pause followed by another burst of low beeping sounds before it manhandled him back to the table. His objections were immediately overruled by Chakwas and, since the Prime was apparently listening to her, Shepard didn't have much of a chance to do more than complain verbally.
"How did you get here?"
The doctor gave him a bemused look. "In a shuttle, how else? Legion contacted the Normandy half an hour ago and said that you were incapacitated. It took one of the geth dropships and met us."
"And you just got on a geth ship because they asked nicely?" he asked.
"Because Legion asked. I didn't exactly come alone. Garrus and Tali are just outside with with Javik as well. Our prothean friend seems to have very strong feelings about the geth and insisted on coming along. Something about 'synthetic treachery'. A few geth aren't going to bother me. I find them quite agreeable, actually," she said, fixing him with a stare. "They don't talk back."
"Point taken."
The rest of the examination proceeded in relative silence as he submitted to the doctor's care. After a few minutes Shepard didn't even notice the Prime looming over them, even when it was once again required to assist in removing his armor so that Chakwas could continue her exam. He just thought of it as a larger version of Legion rather than one of the most efficient killing machines he'd ever encountered.
He glanced over at Legion. "What happened in there?"
"The Old Machine program was focused on its attempts to subvert your consciousness, Shepard-Commander. Our attempts to access its root directory were unsuccessful. Instead we re-activated all dormant geth programs within the server cluster."
"You turned them all back on with the Reaper still active? With the code still in the system they could have been corrupted."
The geth's flaps raised upwards. "Your vital signs indicated extreme distress. Drastic action was required to prevent further damage."
"And the other geth just agreed to help?"
"They have agreed to join us and oppose the Old Machines. They are now us."
Shepard winced as Chakwas tested his reflexes. His leg moved but it felt as if he'd just finished running for hours under a heavy load. Rubbing the sore muscles of his thigh he address the geth once more.
"Then how did you stop the Reaper? If the geth could have just destroyed the Reaper coding with an organized attack then your people should never have fallen under their control."
"No data available."
That caused both of the humans to look at Legion. For its part the platform simply continued to stare at them impassively. Much to his surprise it was Chakwas who address the geth first.
"You fought a Reaper intelligence, Legion?"
"Upon reactivation of the dormant runtimes we were forced to act without consensus to preserve Shepard-Commander's existence. All processes were directed to combat the Old Machine threat by this platform."
Chakwas sighed. "It seems all of my patients are doing foolish things."
"This platform does not require medical assistance, Chakwas-Doctor," the geth stated.
"I am aware, but you spent enough time in the AI core behind my lab. I consider you an honorary patient. Now, for you, Commander... as best I can tell you're showing symptoms similar to a concussion. In addition you have significant muscle strain. I would assume at some point you experienced a seizure. Whatever exactly it was you did I would not suggest that it be repeated."
In his mind Shepard could still hear the Reaper's voice, the visions it had poured into his mind flashing behind his eyes. An endless litany of pain that began to blur together. One detail always stuck, though. The gun in his hand. He hadn't just seen the images that the Reaper had burned into his psyche, he had felt them. Felt the weight of the heavy pistol, smelled the tang of blood in the air. Heard the pained, desperate last breaths.
"Don't worry, that's not something I ever intend to let happen," he said firmly.
Not while I'm alive. I won't wait as long as Saren did to do what's necessary.
Chakwas smiled, unaware of his thoughts.
"Good. You're going to be weak for the next twenty four to forty eight hours while your body recovers. I can't detect any permanent damage so a few days rest in your cabin should be fine. Let's get you back to the Normandy."
"Wait," the Spectre said, holding up a hand and turning to Legion. "What now? Your plan said we needed the programs here to destroy the Reaper base on Rannoch."
"We have re-initiated full contact with all geth outside the Rannoch system while in transit," Legion explained. "All units previously corrupted by Reaper control upgrades have had malicious code deleted and have agreed to join with us. Additional preparation will be necessary to facilitate a successful assault on the Creator homeworld."
"Preparations?"
The geth bobbed its optic. "Upgrades must be performed to allow us to bypass defenses of those geth controlled by the Old Machines. But we are prepared to oppose the Old Machines on all fronts. Geth Prime platforms and support units are available for deployment to contested worlds. In addition technological advances made by the geth will be made available to allied forces."
"Going all in, huh?" Garrus asked.
Shepard looked over to find the turian standing just inside the doorway with Tali right behind him. Geth ships apparently had amazingly quiet door mechanisms. If Legion was surprised by the question it didn't show any indication.
"Phrase: 'All in'. Related to games of chance involving monetary wagers, used by both human and turian culture. Typically meant to frighten off lesser opponents. Alternatively, a final attempt to stave off defeat with a single high risk wager," the geth platform quoted, the lower flaps of its face drawing together as if in thought. "We find this analogy apt. Yes, Officer-Vakarian. We are 'all in'."
"Then welcome to the war, Legion. I know a bunch of krogan and turians on Palaven that are going to be very surprised," Garrus said with an upward flex of his mandibles. "Grateful. But very surprised."
"For the first time in three hundred years your people will be seen as something over than an enemy," Tali added. "I only hope my people will have the same opportunity."
"We will succeed in retaking the homeworld, Creator Zorah," Legion assured her.
"How do you know, Legion? There are some many things that can happen... so many variables."
"Because... we believe it."
The trip back to the Normandy was an uneventful one. Garrus had helped him limp to the shuttle under Chakwas' watchful eye. Legion had accompanied them, stating that it would be able to maintain the connection to the collective aboard the Normandy and coordinate the geth's efforts to assist in the war effort. The synthetic had explained that highly advanced mainframes would be needed to upgrade one of the geth's heavier dropships to allow the maximum number of free runtimes to pool their processing power. Exactly how this would prevent the Reaper signal from overriding their functions wasn't made completely clear but after Legion's display in the digital realm of the geth facility Shepard wasn't inclined to argue.
His head throbbed dully but he could already feel some strength returning to his limbs. Legion's declaration of the geth's intent to aid in the war effort had at least seemed to raise everyone's spirits, the sole exception being Javik. It was the prothean's firm belief that synthetic life would turn on organic life without exception. The fact that the geth had already done so once during the Morning War only made him more assured of his position.
There was some logic to his argument, but they couldn't afford to turn down the geth's help even if he put stock in Javik's theory. They weren't winning this war, not by a long shot. Casualty reports climbed by the millions every day and entire colonies were going dark. While the bulk of their enemy's forces concentrated on Palaven and Earth there were still numerous forces assaulting locations across the galaxy. At least they could say that the Reapers were not being handed an easy victory. He'd seen reports of asari strike fleets utilizing their classic hit and run tactics against the enemy to great effect and Palaven still had not officially fallen. The Reapers controlled space but with the krogan fighting alongside the turians the ancient machines couldn't make the same claim for the ground despite their power.
But how long can we keep it up? he asked himself silently. They don't seem to consider us a significant threat even now, but eventually they'll turn their attention to the Citadel or dedicated attempt to run our fleets to ground.
"And... we're down," Cortez said over the comms. "Glad you didn't bring that geth fighter back, Legion. It was getting cramped in the hangar."
"Docking specifications allowed for point three eight meters on all sides, Pilot-Cortez," the synthetic replied.
"That's cramped for us."
"Understood. We will file this information under organic spatial considerations."
The shuttle doors opened and Chakwas stepped out with a final admonition.
"Your cabin, Commander. After twenty-four hours I'll examine you in medbay to determine how well you've recovered."
"I'm feeling better already, doc, honestly," he promised, pushing off the bench with a groan to stand shakily.
"It wasn't a request. I will ask EDI to put a medical lockdown on your door if it's necessary."
Shepard held up a hand. "That... won't be necessary."
He earned himself another stern look before Chakwas finally left, Legion following her out of the shuttle along with Javik. Placing a hand on the nearest bulkhead the Spectre took a step forward. His legs supported his weight but it was unsteady process at best. By the time Shepard had made it to door Cortez and the others were waiting expectantly.
"Ah, do you need some help, sir?" the pilot asked.
"I'll be fine, Cortez."
"Right," Garrus drawled. "So why don't you jump down from there?"
Shepard glanced down at the deck a foot or so below the lip of the shuttle's door. Shooting the turian an unamused look he braced himself and hopped down. In retrospect it was foolish, stubborn and would likely have gotten him dragged straight to the medbay if Chakwas hadn't already taken the elevator. His strained muscles immediately seized up and he felt his knees give out, only to have his fall arrested by a tight grip around his waist. The familiar hint of oil and leather told him it was Tali holding him off the ground before he even looked to his left.
"Son of a..." he hissed, trailing off as he ignored the frustrating weakness in his limbs.
"I'll take him up."
Garrus quirked a plated brow. "I've got a foot and thirty kilos on you, Tali. I would be easier for me to-"
"I said I will take our bosh'tet captain to his cabin," the engineer stated firmly. As if to make her claim clearer she reached down and picked up the harness with his sidearm hanging from it.
"Okay. Got it... I'll just update Hackett and the others," the turian said. "Assuming EDI lets me into the comm room."
EDI's hologram appeared on one of the nearby terminals.
"You have full access to the Normandy's facilities, Garrus."
"Well, there you go. I'll talk to the Admirals and whatever Wrex is, Tali drags you upstairs. I'll get us on course for the Citadel and follow up with Legion on what kind of tech he actually needs for this crazy plan. Cortez can stow your armor in your locker. Get some rest, Boss."
Garrus nodded curtly after that and left him in Tali's care. The argument had apparently already been settled without any input from him. Any other time it might have annoyed him, but it actually brought a slight smile to Shepard's lips. He had always known that Garrus would step up when the time came. A good soldier. A good friend.
The pair of them, human and quarian, didn't speak as they made their slow way to the elevator and then up to his cabin. He was forced to lean on Tali's slighter form more than he cared to admit, silently cursing the Reaper virus as he did. Every time she tightened her grip he could feel the press of her body through the undersuit that was his only clothing at the moment. It wasn't quite an embrace, not the same as others they'd shared, but it was intoxicating, in the same way a bottle called to an alcoholic.
"Here we are," Tali said quietly as they stepped into his cabin. "Ah, I see you got more fish..."
"Same fish. Kelly kept them for me," he muttered absently.
"Oh. That was nice of her. That explains why Urz is living under engineering too, I guess."
He nodded and let himself fall onto the couch with a relieved sigh.
"That was her. Thanks... for helping me up here," Shepard said. "Being this unsteady on my feet is frustrating. I'll be sure to comm Chakwas if I need anything."
Without even thinking about it he closed his eyes. His head throbbed even after the painkillers that Chakwas had given him and it felt like there was something always at the back of his mind. Something he needed to remember. He rubbed his hand across his face and opened his eyes to find Tali still standing there.
"Tali? I'm fine. Really... just tired. You can go, I'm sure you could use some downtime too."
"No, I don't think so."
Shepard frowned. "No?"
"You heard me."
"I don't know what you want, Tali," the Spectre replied tiredly. "But with the geth and... everything that happened today. Can't it wait?"
"What I want? I want you to talk to me," she shot back immediately. "And for the first time since I've been back on the Normandy I've got you in the same room for more than a few minutes."
His frown deepened further and he shook his head. Why now? She had been quiet and accepted things so far. He didn't have the patience or the will to argue with Tali now. There were still too many images lurking in the back of his mind. Promises of pain and betrayal. Fears of just what it all meant.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sorry, Tali. For everything... but I've been fighting a war."
"Yes, a war that you seem to think is your sole responsibility," Tali said harshly. "When they offered me the position of Admiral I thought of what you would do... I decided that I would try to make a difference. You spent so much time trying to make things better for people."
Hard as he tried he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.
"And your point?"
The quarian actually made a small growling sound of frustration, jabbing a finger at him.
"My point is that you never gave up. You made us all better, told us we could do more, be more than we were no matter what the galaxy said about us. You showed Garrus what it meant to be a leader, gave Wrex hope... you showed me that someone... that someone could care about me even with this between us. Even if it was only for a little while..."
Shepard's throat tightened when he heard the slight hitch in her voice. The gesture towards her mask wasn't needed, he knew instantly what she meant. But it still drove home her words. His hands balled into fists. All he wanted to do was reach out and tell her that he'd never stopped caring. He felt his grip on his stubbornness slipping even as he desperately tried to hold the wall up around himself.
"Tali... I never meant..."
She cut him off. "You changed and I don't know why. You won't talk to me... you wouldn't then and you won't now. You're still Commander Shepard. Hero of the Citadel. That's what everyone sees. And you just went on yet another mission that almost got you killed. Everyone knows that Bahak was destroyed and that something terrible happened... but why did it mean that you had to leave me behind? You left me on the Citadel then, just like you left Garrus and I behind today!"
"I didn't want to," the human whispered.
Tali dropped to her knees next to the couch and grabbed his hands, strong digits forcing his balled fists to uncurl in her grip. He didn't have the will to pull them away, instead feeling his eyes drawn to the glowing orbs that met his beneath the quarian's visor.
"Then why? What changed? What happened to the man that promised to always come back for me? The one that stayed by my bedside for days when I was hurt?" she demanded. "The one that trusted me..."
Every inch of his body was suddenly tense. Tali's tone, half angry, half pleading, drove into him deeper than any knife. He wanted to tell her to just go away. To go back to engineering and leave him where he was, alone and safely away from anyone else he might hurt. But she pushed. And pushed. And then finally he snapped, his voice coming out as almost a snarl. He wasn't angry at her, but at himself.
"He killed over a quarter of a million people!"
The three fingered hands that gripped his tensed.
"That wasn't your fault."
"Wasn't it?" he asked. "I chose to set the asteroid on course for the relay. I knew what would happen when I did."
The quarian shook her head, not letting go. "I can't know what that decision was like, Shepard... but you once told me that sometimes a leader has to made hard decisions. Decisions that hurt."
Finally Shepard worked up the strength of body and will to pull his hands away, gripping the arm of the couch tightly and shoving himself to his feet. His stance was still unsteady but he couldn't sit there and look into Tali's eyes while he spoke, overriding her protests.
"It wasn't just a decision that cost people their lives, Tali! I was an idiot. I didn't stop Kenson, I didn't even figure it out until it was too late... and by then it was only minutes until the Reapers came through the relay. So I hit the goddamn button, I set the asteroid on course knowing that it would wipe out the entire system. I condemned thousands of people, batarians and their slaves, to death."
"People that the Reapers would have slaughtered the moment they came through the relay!" she countered. "It was terrible, but it bought the galaxy time!"
"Time for what?" he yelled. "Don't you understand? I turned myself in so the galaxy would have time to prepare! To be ready for what was coming. I've fought for so long. I've killed so many people... and look at us! We're no more ready than we were three years ago! The batarians are gone. Earth is burning... I killed three hundred thousand people. I left everyone... I left you behind... for nothing!"
Shepard wavered on his feet and Tali stepped closer, a hand steadying against his waist. Another touched his cheek and he leaned into it finally, trying to ignore the protests in his head, the incessant buzzing that drove him to distraction. One of his hands found her waist, fingers trailing against the smooth material of her suit. The soft give of her body beneath his fingertips.
"I was so angry at you for leaving me behind. But you you can't think all of this was for nothing," Tali whispered. "You've done everything you could."
"No, not everything," he replied bitterly. "I wonder if I could have done more. Why I didn't... but I know what I have to do now, Tali. I have to stop this, one way or the other."
"We are. We have plans, the Crucible, the geth... but you can't keep doing this alone! We see it in your eyes, in the way you act. Garrus, Kasumi... even Joker. He jokes about it but it sees it. How many times can you keep throwing yourself into the next fight until you don't come back?"
He shook his head and pulled back reluctantly, the simple act of letting go more difficult than anything he had accomplished in the past weeks. Everything told him to pull her closer and reach beneath her veil to pull away the mask that hid her away from the world. But all he could see in his mind's eye was that beautiful face staring lifelessly at the sky, blood staining her lips.
"I have to do this alone," he said reluctantly, turning to the side. "I can't make you understand but... somehow I've always known how this was going to end, Tali. I've fought for too long, survived too much. If we're going to win this war then I'm going to have to do more. I can't stop. Not for anything. And you can't... you can't share that burden. You should return to the Fleet. To your people."
Tali's eyes seemed to flash. She reached down and yanked the heavy pistol from its holster on the table, shoving it into his hands. He could hear the tears in her voice, even if he couldn't see them.
"If you want to die so badly, then why don't you just pull the trigger?" she asked.
"Tali, what-"
She shook her head. "I made a promise too, that I would stay with you until the end. That I would be there one way or the other when time ran out. So if you're so determined to die then you can shoot yourself... or you can shoot me. But I'm not leaving the Normandy. Not again."
It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head. The gun shook in his hand. Pain shot through his head as memory and reality blurred. A smoking gun, the smell of blood. He looked around the room frantically even as Tali took a step closer and just for an instant he swore he saw a turian face in his reflection against the glass of the fish tank.
One simple act. The first step.
"You... you need to go," he stammered.
So easy.
"I'm not going anywhere. Did you not hear what I just said? I'm done letting you drive me away!"
Submit.
"No!"
"John?" The anger was gone now. Confusion. Concern.
It is inevitable. Accept your fate.
When Shepard looked up and saw himself in the gleam of her mask he didn't recognize the face staring back. It was lined and hard, eyes distant. Unfocused. Laughter echoed in his head. Familiar laughter, throaty and deep, tinged with malice. He covered his face with his free hand.
"G-Get out!"
"What's wrong... tell me..." Tali pleaded. "John, please-"
One by one. I told you... I told you...
"I... s-said... no!"
Shepard roared and threw the pistol as hard as he could across the room. The handgun tumbled end over end, impacting the display case over his desk with a resounding crash. Glass scattered in every direction. The fire crawled under his skin again and sang in his head. Tali hesitated and he lunged forward, seizing her by her shoulders with strength he hadn't possessed minutes before. She gave a cry of surprise as he lifted her bodily off her feet and pulled her across the room. His fist slammed against the door release.
"Go... go!"
He shoved her past the threshold and jabbed the controls, the door snapped shut between them. Shepard dropped to his knees and retched on an empty stomach. Visions pounded in his head even as his body heaved and twitched. This wasn't a dream. He longed for it to be one, more than anything he longed to wake up. But it wasn't.
Your resistance only prolongs the inevitable.
With extreme effort he dragged himself across the floor, foot by foot, until he reached the small table at the side of his bed. He yanked the drawer open and fumbled inside, finally finding the item he was looking for. A simple injector. He'd purchased it on the Citadel, a stop gap measure to help him gain a few hours of dreamless sleep. Enough to continue to function. Shepard jammed the injector in his thigh and pressed the button.
"I'll... never..."
His words faded, as did the visions. Sleep drove away everything and for once he embraced it. Within his dreams he could only torment himself.
Well, I did say I was going to try and get this one out sooner! Doing my best to knock out a few more before I take a couple week hiatus while I'm out of town. Of course the next few chapters are also rather cliffhangery... so I might just be a bad person ;)
As always a thanks to my beta readers and others that have (and are) helping me!
